Tore Up (Mississippi Smoke Series Book 1)

When my eyes opened, I smelled him, although the warmth of his body was gone. I stared straight ahead at the window as little insecurities and fears began to inch their way into my thoughts.

Had he changed his mind? Had last night been a mistake?

The shift of the bed and his warm body moving close to me under the blankets had me clutching for his arm in relief as it came around me. He was still here. It was okay.

His lips brushed my shoulder. “You okay this morning, pretty girl? You’ve got ahold of my arm like you need to be saved from a sinking boat.” Underneath the teasing tone was concern. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried or not.

I pressed my mouth to his arm and rubbed my cheek over it. “I’m good.”

Bane rolled me onto my back, and his searching gaze stared down at me as if he needed to see for himself. He ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, then trailed a fingertip along the ridge of my nose. “I love these fucking freckles,” he murmured.

I didn’t want to move or say anything. Watching him explore my face with that admiring gleam in his eyes, as if he thought I was beautiful, wedged out my nagging insecurities that I feared would always be a part of who I was.

His fingertip brushed my jawline, then made its way beneath my chin. He paused as a pained glint flashed in his eyes. I realized I was holding my breath when he began to gently stroke a line back and forth across my neck.

When he swallowed hard, I could see his throat constrict.

“I was eaten up with grief,” he said just above a whisper. “Tormented with his death. I’d always been the darker one. The brother with more than his fair share of demons. But losing him, it sent me to a place mentally I’d never been before.” His eyes lifted to meet mine. “Even then, I don’t know how I was able to hurt this skin.”

He lowered his head and peppered kisses where his knife had once been. Tears burned my eyes, and I closed them tightly while sighing at the sweetness of what he was doing.

“I would rip a man’s heart out for doing to you the things I’ve done,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I was broken. That’s my only excuse. So fucking destroyed that I didn’t think I would ever find myself out of the hell I was in.”

I sank my fingers into his hair, and he buried his face into the curve of my neck. We stayed like that for several moments. Saying nothing. Listening to each other’s hearts beat. If he was looking for forgiveness, then there was no point. I’d forgiven this man without even realizing it weeks ago.

“Thank you,” he said as he lifted his head and stared down at me.

“For what?” I asked, wishing I could say something to make that wounded look in his eyes go away.

He bent his head and kissed the tip of my nose. “For accepting me, wanting me, when I am not worthy of either.”

I reached up, taking his face in both my hands. “Don’t say that,” I told him. “You might be dark and slightly terrifying at times, but you’re also loyal, strong, and kind.”

His lips curled up, and then he let out a small laugh. “Pretty girl, no one has ever called me kind.”

I moved my fingers over his face, loving the way his short beard felt under my palms. “The way you took care of me last night? That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. The only person I can ever remember even giving me a Band-Aid was a teacher. You are kind.”

He turned his head so that his lips were underneath my palm. A wicked gleam in his eyes made me shiver. His tongue flicked over my palm, and then he turned his face back toward me.

“I’m gonna have to be honest with you, pretty girl. I’m an asshole. Only you get that gentle and sweet shit from me. It’s not something I’m known for.”

I smiled as … happiness—real joy—rushed over me. Mending broken parts, healing wounds, and slowly piecing me back together.

“I’m glad this is your room,” I told him.

His eyebrows drew together. “Why is that?”

I licked my bottom lip and glanced at his door. “Because that night, when I realized I wasn’t dreaming and you were in my bed, I had come downstairs earlier during the party and the room down the hall had a topless blonde walking out of it. I went to bed wondering if it had been your room she had been in.”

A sexy smirk curled his lips. “Not mine, seems, I had reached the point where I was no longer interested in anyone else. Instead, I counted down the hours until you’d be asleep and I could sneak into your room and hold you in my arms.”

The next morning, when I walked into the kitchen with my hand in Bane’s, I was self-conscious. We’d not left his room yesterday—or I hadn’t left his room. He went to get food for us, but other than that, we watched a movie in bed and took a bubble bath together. Every time I’d tried to walk, he would scoop me up like a child and carry me around. He was determined I needed to stay off my feet and give the cuts time to heal.

The damage I’d done to my feet was not bad. I felt like it was his excuse to keep me to himself. I hadn’t been ready to let the rest of the world in either, and I enjoyed our little bubble. However, today, we’d had to escape the sanctuary of his room.

“Oh, thank fuck. I was beginning to think one of us needed to break down the door to make sure you were okay in there and Bane didn’t have you chained to the bed,” Than drawled with a teasing glint in his eyes as he looked over at me.

Bane’s hand tightened on mine, and his shoulders tensed. I had to defuse this before he got all snarly. The guys were going to say things. I’d prepared myself for that.

“If he had chained me to the bed, I’d have been more than okay with it. In fact, I’m positive I’d have enjoyed it,” I replied.

Oz looked up from his phone at me, and Forge began to choke on whatever he was eating.

Bane tugged me against him and put his arm around my shoulders, then kissed the top of my head. The tension was now gone from his body. I sank into him, happy I had handled that so well.

“Guess that clears up shit,” Oz replied with a smirk as he went back to his phone.

“Jesus, give a man a warning,” Forge said, still sounding strangled. “I had a mouth full of bacon.”

Than looked pleased. Knowing this wasn’t going to be an issue with him gave me some relief I hadn’t known I needed. He’d been Crosby’s best friend after all. I’d worried he might not take this well. My sleeping in Bane’s bed and having a relationship with him. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

“You’re dressed.” Than pointed with the hand holding his coffee cup. “Ready to head back to the distillery with me again?”

“No.” Bane’s firm response was immediate.

I turned to look up at him, but he didn’t meet my gaze. Instead, he led me over to a stool and pulled it out for me to sit.

“She gets bored here all day,” Than told him.

Feeling like I needed to speak up, too, or he’d have me locked away in this house, where he could keep me safe from all things, I said, “I like working. It gives me something to do.”

“See,” Than added. “She wants to go.”

Bane looked down at me finally. “Don’t you like the horses? Going to the stables? Wouldn’t you enjoy helping me there? You could feed and brush Slingshot.”

Was he serious? My eyes widened. He wanted me to go with him? To the stables all day?!

“Yes!” I exclaimed.

His pleased grin turned into a smirk as he placed his hand on my shoulder. “Seems she’s got a new job.” His tone was smug. As if he’d just won a contest and I was the prize.

“Fine. Go and steal my help,” Than replied.

I felt a twinge of guilt then and looked over at him, only to see he was grinning over his cup at me. He wasn’t upset. Not that I would change my mind if he had been. But I would have felt bad about it. If there was a choice, Bane was always going to win.